That time of year thou mayst in me behold
When yellow leaves, or none, or few, do hang
Upon those boughs which shake against the cold,
Bare ruin'd choirs, where late the sweet birds sang.
In me thou seest the twilight of such day
As after sunset fadeth in the west,
Which by and by black night doth take away,
Death's second self, that seals up all in rest.
In me thou see'st the glowing of such fire
That on the ashes of his youth doth lie,
As the death-bed whereon it must expire,
Consum'd with that which it was nourish'd by.
This thou perceivest, which makes thy love more strong,
To love that well which thou must leave ere long.
I know you do not look at me,
I know you only look in me,
You see inside the depths of me,
I am fragile, I am weak
but you see into the courage in me
Against all odds you see me carry on,
You see my heart stumble, you see it fall,
The weight of my defeat holds me, captures me
I am like a fierce lion
Burdened by age and hindered by bars,
Too tired to show my teeth to the children who rattle my cage
Wallowing in the sadness of my fate
This you sense, and it makes your love strong,
but I know you will give up before long.
Created: Jan 20, 2010Document Media